


I've Got a Crush (On You)

by myglassesaredirty



Series: It Had to be You [15]
Category: Psych
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boxing, F/M, Hickeys, Making Out, Muscle Kink, Neck Kissing, Self-Defense, cue me doing the sign of the cross even though i'm baptist and not catholic, distraction, guys this is legit the steamiest thing i have ever written, i need to bathe myself in holy water now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 18:19:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19214938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myglassesaredirty/pseuds/myglassesaredirty
Summary: Stupid Henry Spencer. He has abs of steel, impressive muscle, a perfect smile and messy hair, and to top it all of, he's such a great person. The bastard. She wants to kiss him.Inspired by the prompt:Person A is having a phone call with their friend/boss/relative and cannot drop the call. Person B becomes impatient and starts distracting them (nibbling their ear, kissing their neck). This leads to awkward stutters and gasps over the phone.





	I've Got a Crush (On You)

**Author's Note:**

> I– I don't know how this happened tbh. There is a part two coming later (hopefully tomorrow)

It should be illegal for men to have everything: intelligence, looks, a good personality, a great character, an amazing sense of humor, a smile that can weaken more than a few knees, and muscle. It really should be illegal. It’s like they’re  _ demanding _ that she falls in love with them.

 

If Madeleine Baker is being honest, however, there is only one man she knows who fits all of the above criteria, and he is in the middle of the sparring ring, shirt clearly missing, sweat dampening his hair.

 

Maddy tucks her hair behind her ear and tilts her head to the side. She came down to the sparring ring because she had nothing better to do. Theoretically, she could have studied for whatever impending test was coming along, but none have been assigned for the immediate future. She could have read a book, but watching Henry spar with the other officers is entertaining. Mostly because Henry is the fittest out of all the officers on the force – easily the fastest runner and one of the best shots – and Brett likes to push him to become better.

 

Now that Maddy is down in the sparring ring, she knows that Henry almost always spars without a shirt on, and the few times he has sparred  _ with _ a shirt on, it was because they were not yet at the level of friendship where he felt “comfortable” going shirtless unless they were in the vicinity of water.

 

She crosses her arms and glares at Henry. He bounces around the ring, waiting for Brett to get close. Brett’s fist comes for him, and Henry ducks, dodges, or – Maddy’s personal favorite – pushes Brett’s arm down and climbs onto him, using his weight to bring them both down.

 

Brett groans and taps Henry’s leg twice. Henry untangles his legs and pops up, a stupid grin dancing on his stupidly handsome face. Brett flips him off on his way to grab his water bottle, and Henry laughs, pushing a hand through his hair. He turns to face Maddy and waves.

 

She waves back and continues to glare at him and his stupid abs that are clearly chiseled by God Himself. Are they marble? It’s a genuine question. Henry has these stupid abs and all the stupid muscle with a stupid grin and stupid hair and stupid good looks.

 

God. What a fucking asshole.

 

Brett tosses Henry the water bottle, and Henry catches it in midair because  _ of course _ the asshole would, and  _ of course _ he’d squirt the water into his mouth instead of just drinking from the bottle like a normal person. He stops squeezing the bottle and swallows heavily.

 

Why the  _ fuck _ does sweat look good on him? It shouldn’t. No human person should ever look this attractive when they’re hot and sweaty. It’s illegal. It’s unfair.

 

It’s those damn abs.

 

Henry’s eyes slide over to her, and she notices the way they dart back and forth. Before she can figure out why he did that, he smirks at her, grabs a towel, and wipes his face. The thing about that smirk is that it’s not the one he usually makes. His usual smirk is attractive, sure, everything about him is. But this one…

 

She wants to kiss that smirk right off his face. She means wipe. With her mouth. God, what an asshole.

 

Brett leans against the wall opposite Maddy and fans the air in front of him. “Can we call it quits, Spencer? You’re too much for me. Too young, too much energy.” He licks his chapped lips. “I have two kids, Henry. I don’t get the same sleep you do.”

 

Henry chuckles and stretches. His shorts fall a little bit, exposing a V line. It’s not as defined as his abs, but it’s still there nonetheless, and Maddy is torn between looking away and staring at it for as long as Henry lets her look.

 

“Aw, you’re going soft on me, Brett. Criminals aren’t going to catch you a break.” His arms fall, and he pushes his hand through his hair again, and his hair sticks up wildly. “This  _ is _ training, after all.”

 

Brett rolls his eyes. “At least in the field, I have adrenaline on my side. I know you’re not a threat.” He pushes himself off the wall and points an accusatory finger at Henry. “And until you have a newborn, don’t tell me about going soft. My daughter hasn’t slept at  _ night _ for three nights in a row. She sleeps in the  _ day, _ of course she does, but when  _ I’m  _ home and  _ I _ need to sleep? She won’t!” He sobs once, and Maddy isn’t entirely convinced that it’s just for theatrics. “I haven’t  _ slept.” _

 

Henry winces and drapes the towel around his neck. “Alright, Brett, I’ll tell you what: just this one time, I’ll give up early. I accept your surrender.”

 

Brett chuckles. “You’re the worst. But thank you.”

 

Henry spreads his hands and starts making his way over to Maddy. “Aw, thanks, bud. I love you, too.” He makes his hands into a heart shape and holds them up to his chest. “Straight from the heart.”

 

“Fuckass.”

 

Henry laughs even harder and shakes his towel at Brett. “Go take a nap.” He turns to Maddy and slides down the wall to sit next to her. “Sorry you didn’t get to see more.”

 

She purses her lips and stares at the ring in the center and the punching bag in the far corner. “Teach me self-defense.”

 

He raises his eyebrows. “How do you mean?”

 

She nods to him (and his stupid abs and stupid muscles). “The stuff you were just doing with Brett. Teach me.” She glances at the punching bag. “I mean, you should probably teach me how to punch first. I’m pretty sure I don’t know how to do that right.”

 

He nods slowly, his lips curling into a smile. “Do you have any athletic wear on you?”

 

She shakes her head once. “No. Why?” She pulls at her shirt. “I mean, I’m wearing a sports bra right now, if that counts.”

 

He blinks once, and his mouth falls open. He licks his lips and stares intensely at the punching bag (likely, she thinks, in an effort to avoid staring at her chest).

 

_ Serves the bastard right. Maybe this will let him know how it feels. _

 

Henry clears his throat. “Um, yeah, sports bra is fine.”

 

She smacks his shoulder. “You have seen me in a bikini before. In other words: you’ve seen me in less than a sports bra.”

 

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, yes, I have. Um, but it’s going to get tiring, and you’re going to get hot, so I wouldn’t recommend slacks. Karen’s still here. Why don’t you ask if she has a pair of athletic shorts on her?”

 

Maddy nods and jumps to her feet. “I’ll be back in a second, captain.”

 

He pushes himself up and rolls his eyes again. “It’s  _ sergeant.” _

 

*

 

It is really hard to breathe when the most attractive man you have met in the twenty-ish years you have lived on Earth is leaning over, his  _ extremely bare chest _ pressing into your  _ fairly bare back, _ to fix the positioning of your wrist.

 

Maddy licks her lips and flicks her eyes between Henry’s hand on her wrist and the punching bag. “So, thumb on my other fingers, punch and twist at the end?”

 

Henry nods. “Exactly.” As he pulls away, he glances at her and the way she presses her lips tightly together. “Are you nervous, Maddy?”

 

She shakes her head quickly. “Nervous? Me? Why would I be nervous? I mean, really, what would I have to be nervous  _ about, _ I’m with my best friend so really –”

 

He chuckles and steps away from her, waving a hand in dismissal. “Never mind. Just give the bag a test punch with what I taught you. Imagine some jackass…”

 

Maddy sends her fist flying into the punching bag. The bag doesn’t swing.

 

She steps away, her brow furrowed, and looks at Henry.

 

He has his arms crossed over his chest, and he nods carefully. “Good. That was good.”

 

She narrows her eyes at him, resisting the urge to fidget with the wraps on her hands. “Don’t patronize me.” She gestures to the punching bag. “The bag didn’t swing.”

 

Henry laughs softly and shakes his head. “It’s not supposed to swing. If it swings, you did it wrong. It can be dangerous.” He reaches for Maddy’s hands and checks the wrapping. “And we’re learning boxing first. You have to build up more upper body muscle to get the swing through. It takes a lot of work, rookies don’t start with that.” He purses his lips and lets go of her hands. “As for now, we’re going to learn and perfect boxing first.” He smiles at her, that unfair smile that’s soft and sweet and fucking  _ attractive. _

 

A strand of hair has fallen from her ponytail and sticks to her forehead. She tries to shake her head to get rid of it, but it stays right where it is. She blows air from the side of her mouth, but the sweat forces her hair to stick more than the force of air can unstick it. Maddy just gives up, lifts her wrapped hands, and brushes it away from her face.

 

“So, like, uppercuts and jabs and punches? That kind of stuff?”

 

Henry nods and crosses his arms. “Exactly. Now, I’m going to teach you how to uppercut.” He comes up to stand right next to her, bringing his bare fists up to his chin. “You want to come at them from below. It’s more of a ‘get their chin and hope you shock them enough’ kind of punch. We don’t recommend it unless you’re in some kind of pickle that you can’t get out of.” He thinks of something funny and snorts. “Or, in your case, this might come in handy in punching Jerry in the balls.”

 

She chuckles. “I feel like that’s more of a cross punch.”

 

He shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe you’ll punch Jerry in the stomach or in the chin. Any which way you do is perfectly okay, as long as you do.”

 

A smile curls up her lips, and she knocks her shoulder into his. “Fuck Jerry.”

 

He nods solemnly. “Fuck Jerry.”

 

Henry teaches her correct boxing stance, cross punches, hooks, uppercuts, and jabs. She thinks that’s enough. But of course it isn’t. Because this is Henry Spencer, who has abs chiseled from marble and arms like that of a Greek god and messy hair and a nice smile. He’s going to make her work to be fit and healthy.

 

Damn him.

 

He checks his watch. “Do you need to be anywhere for another…” he purses his lips and tilts his head to either side. “Hour or so?”

 

Maddy shakes her head. “No, I can just get dinner right after this. Why do you ask?”

 

He grins devilishly. “Time for training.”

 

See, Maddy does not usually work out. Working out is not her thing. Occasionally, her roommate will convince her to go on a run, or she’ll go when Henry texts her and says that it’s safe around campus. Sometimes, after the holidays, she goes to the gym and works out on the Peloton or the treadmill for half an hour. Her normal exercise constitutes as walking her neighbor’s dog when they’re out of town.

 

Now, Henry…

 

Henry has trained for a full marathon before. An entire 26.2 miles of pure running, in the heat and humidity of Santa Barbara. He signs up for triathlons, and he isn’t like some people, who are strong in the land sports and weaker with swimming. No, he’s good at swimming. This is the type of man who wakes up at five in the morning to go work out, and it’s not some light workout for one hour. No, he does an intense workout for two hours, and he switches it up while he’s at the gym. He has a Speedo, and he likes to wear it.

 

(Long story. Thing is, when Maddy went to the gym after Thanksgiving, she had family in town and couldn’t exactly sleep in. If she did, she was not going to work out at all. So she got up early, drove to the gym, and promptly shrieked when she saw  _ Henry freaking Spencer _ climbing out of the pool, wearing nothing but a man-thong – or the swimsuit equivalent of such – and pushing a hand through his wet hair. She saw his back muscles for the first time.

 

He wasn’t flaunting it that time. He was genuinely surprised to see her at the gym, which is understandable, since she’s never there. He complimented her on pushing herself in her workout. In reality, she was bright red because of seeing so  _ much _ and not really from the workout itself.)

 

So when Henry says that it’s time for training, Maddy feels the fear of God struck into her. It can’t be good. If Henry is giving her this workout, she will not be able to move tomorrow, and that will make getting to classes difficult.

 

She narrows her eyes at him. “What do you mean ‘training?’”

 

He nods to her hands and starts unwrapping them. “First, we’re doing a beginner workout, and we’ll do that until you’re more comfortable with boxing. Brett and I designed it for the young ones.”

 

She rolls her eyes.  _ “You’re  _ one of the young ones. You’re still twenty-two.”

 

He glances up at her and smirks. “I am, indeed, but I have proven myself on the force. I am still a sergeant, even though I’m young.”

 

“You got shot.”

 

“I still got the perp even though I was actually dying!” He shakes his head. “Regardless, I’m going to give you the choice: do you want to do workout 1, 2, or 3?”

 

She licks her lips and massages her now-unwrapped hands. “Which one is the easiest?”

 

He laughs and scratches his head. “I’m not telling you.”

 

She squints at him and jabs her index finger into his chest. It’s– it’s the equivalent of poking a brick wall. His pecs are nice.  _ Why _ is he like this? “Okay, let me try it this way: are  _ you _ going to do any of these aforementioned workouts?”

 

He purses his lips. “Are you asking that because you think I won’t do an easy workout or because you’re hoping that I don’t.”

 

She blinks once. “Yes.”

 

He laughs again. “If it’ll make you feel better, I will just coach you today. If I do decide to do this workout, I’ll either do it at home or I’ll do it after you leave. I won’t do it while you’re here.”

 

Maddy nods. “And this is for any of the above?”

 

He nods once. “Any of the above,” he echoes.

 

She licks her lips. “Then I say…workout 1.”

 

He smirks, crosses the sparring ring, and grabs the whiteboard. “I’m going to write your workout here. And don’t expect to get past me. I’m going to be watching you like a hawk.”

 

She sighs heavily. “You’re going to murder me.”

 

“I’m trying to make you healthier! Working out is good for you.” Henry sticks the Expo cap in his mouth and takes it off with his teeth. On the whiteboard, in his tiny little chicken scratch, he writes:

 

**WARM-UP**

**10 min jump rope**

**20 squats**

**20 push-ups (not the wimpy ones, real push-ups)**

**40 crunches**

 

Her mouth falls open. “I fucking hate you.”

 

He glances over his shoulder. “Which one do you hate more?”

 

She squints at him. “You’re going to make me do more of the one I hate most, aren’t you?”

 

He grins and turns back to the whiteboard. “Quite possibly. Either way, I’m only going to count each of these if it’s perfect or near-perfect. Can’t have any half-assing around here.”

 

God, she wishes he would turn around. Her finger in the air tells him just what she thinks of this.

 

**SHADOW BOXING**

**3-minute round**

**Rest 30 seconds**

**Repeat 3 times**

 

**[One round consists of jab-cross, jab-cross-hook, jab-jab-cross, jab-hook-cross, cross-hook-cross, hook-cross-hook, jab-cross-hook-cross, and jab-cross-jab-cross-hook-hook]**

 

“Oh my God.” She is going to die. She will actually die.

 

Henry sets down the marker and crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s not that bad. I’ll help you remember which order to do it in. Trust me, I’ll be standing by your side the entire time.”

 

Maddy flips him off with both middle fingers this time. “I can’t tell if that’s reassuring or intimidating.”

 

He winces. “Maybe a little bit of both.” He turns around. “I’m cutting it a little short because we have to replace the heavy bag, and I don’t want to push you more than that. I’m just going to write the cooldown.”

 

She breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”

 

**COOLDOWN**

**100 push-ups (you can use the wimpy ones this time, but only after 50)**

**100 squats**

**200 sit-ups**

**Rest as little as possible**

 

Maddy splutters and gesticulates to the whiteboard. “‘REST AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE?!?!’” She stares at the cooldown again and whimpers. “Henry, the cooldown is supposed to be the  _ easiest _ part!”

 

He shakes his head. “Not this time. Getting through the Academy isn’t easy, Mad.”

 

She glares at him. “I asked you to teach me how to punch.”

 

He shuts one eye and glances at the ceiling. “Are you sure about that? Because I very specifically remember you  _ also _ asking me to teach you self-defense.”

 

“You call  _ that _ abomination  _ self-defense?! _ It’s torture!”

 

He rolls his eyes. “We teach self-defense the same way at the Academy.” He sighs and pushes a hand through his hair. “Look, Mad, as much as it sucks, the police might not always get there in time to protect you.” He clears his throat. “Your future husband may not be able to protect you, and he probably won’t be able to protect you like we can. I want you to be prepared in case of an emergency. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

 

Her face softens. “I appreciate the sentiment, Henry. This still sucks ass, though.” She undoes her ponytail, gathers up her hair again, and puts it all back in a ponytail. “You do realize that I haven’t worked out consistently since I played soccer, right?”

 

Henry laughs softly. “I’ll go a little easy on you. I’ll settle for near perfect instead of perfect.”

 

*

 

Damn him.

 

May God damn Henry Spencer.

 

That workout was fine for the most part. She isn’t bad at jumping rope, she’s no fan of push-ups or squats, but the warm-up was doable. She understood the point of the shadow-boxing, and she even asked if Henry could add another round or two.

 

(Her heart was pounding. Not because Henry had  _ finally _ put on a t-shirt and replaced his shorts with grey sweatpants, but because of the workout. That’s it.

 

Okay, maybe not, but the workout definitely did have something to do with it. Henry insisted on her learning how to land the punches quickly.)

 

But that fucking cooldown.

 

Cooldown? Ha! The term is a joke. If he had said “the end of the workout,” it would have made more sense. But he didn’t. He said “cooldown.” Cooldown implies the easiest part of the workout.

 

Henry had thought about cutting down the cooldown and making it easier for her to get through, but if  _ he _ can have all these nice abs and all these nice muscles and all this gentle giant power, then she can damn well get some of that. Might as well disarm Henry with his own weapons.

 

She literally couldn’t walk after the workout. Her legs were shaking from the squats alone, and holding her clothes was already too much for her. Henry slung her bag onto his shoulder and carried her bridal style to his truck. He knows her. He knew she was in no condition to drive.

 

And  _ now, _ that asshole decided that medium shirts don’t fit anymore. No, Henry is wearing the smallest possible shirt, and it tightens around his pecs, flattening itself against his abdomen.

 

In short: all of his muscle is Extremely Visible.

 

It’s not like they’re at the beach, where he surfs on the regular. It’s still unfair that he can  _ surf, _ but he still has a good reason for wearing a shirt that tight. Now? Now the asshole has no reason to other than the fact that he is blatantly fucking with her.

 

He stretches, and the hem of his shirt rises, exposing his belly button and below. He knows she’s looking at him. He made sure of it before he stretched.

 

Maddy glares at him and angrily bites her pretzel. Karen leans forward, looking past Richard, and mouths, “What’s wrong?” at her.

 

Maddy rolls her eyes and hooks her thumb over her shoulder at Henry. “This asshole,” she mouths back.

 

Brett glances past Henry’s stomach and shakes his head. “Maddy, do you want to help me get some drinks?” He stands and points to Henry. “Beer?

 

Henry shakes his head. “Not tonight. I’m driving Maddy home.”

 

Maddy thinks she sees a flicker of amusement in Brett’s eyes, but he pulls out his phone to take down drink orders before she can be sure.

 

“So, no beer. That means Coke for you, Henry?”

 

He nods and scratches his head. “Yeah. Diet, if they have it.”

 

She side-eyes him. “You do realize that diet sodas actually have more calories than a normal one, right?”

 

He smirks at her. It’s the sexy smirk. She hates him. “Where did you hear that little fact?”

 

She continues to glare. “College.”

 

Brett motions for Maddy to stand up. “Okay, we’ll resolve this later. Henry, I know you are very focused on the game at hand, so pay attention to your favorite players. Richard, Karen, you want anything?”

 

Karen glances at her fiancé and telepathically converses with him. Turning to Brett, she holds up two fingers. “Two beers.”

 

Brett types it into his phone. “Any specific brand?”

 

Karen shrugs and leans into Richard’s side. “Surprise us.”

 

Brett nods and tucks his phone back into his pocket. “Okay, then. Maddy, come on.”

 

Maddy follows Brett up the stairs, crossing her arms. “Why is he such an asshole?”

 

Brett glances over his shoulder and laughs. “Henry, you mean? He likes you. He’s had a crush on you since you first showed up at the station.”

 

Her steps falter. She had felt that way about Henry, noticing how he always went out of his way to make his friends’ days better, and on her first day, he had given her the last jelly donut. Which. That now makes sense as to why he gave her the last jelly donut. “Oh?”

 

He nods. “Yeah. He noticed that you’ve been eyeing his muscle since you saw him in the sparring ring, so he’s just teasing you about it. Nothing too bad. He’ll stop if you tell him to.”

 

Maddy purses her lips. “I think,” she says slowly, a smile creeping onto her lips, “I have a better idea.”

 

*

 

For over a year, she and Henry have been friends. For the past four months, they have started hanging out more often, and almost never with other people. She knows Henry has taken to calling them “not-dates.” She would be perfectly content if they were dates.

 

Today, Henry invited her over to his place to watch movies and in general just be lazy. It’s one of his days off, and her family doesn’t expect her back in Cincinnati for another week. School has ended for the semester, but they all know she loves being around Henry, and they let her be.

 

Maddy started planning this day when she first learned that Henry was interested in her. Not so much all of it, but she wears one of his older t-shirts (this one is big and comfy, and it’s large enough to cover her shorts. She’s wearing Nike shorts, and only the edge of her shorts pokes out on occasion). He has  _ Pitch Perfect _ playing on the television. He always says he puts it on for her, but she can hear him humming along to each of the songs, and she has caught him dancing along on more than one occasion. They watch  _ Pitch Perfect _ with relative frequency. He would be an idiot to believe that she didn’t know it was his guilty pleasure.

 

After his favorite scene passes, Henry gets up, stretches, and looks down at her. “Do you want anything from the kitchen? Popcorn, soda, popsicle?”

 

She rolls her eyes and leans back into the couch, pulling her blanket up to her chin. “Is there something a bit more substantial? Like nachos or pizza?” She shakes the blanket off and reaches for his arm. “But a Dr. Pepper will be nice, thanks.”

 

He smiles at her and pats her hand. Glancing over his shoulder, he keeps his eyes trained on Anna Kendrick until the camera shifts. “Sure thing. Nachos and Dr. Pepper. Anything else?”

 

She purses her lips and shakes her head. “Not that I can think of. Come back before the competition begins.”

 

He holds up a hand to his chest in mock offense. At least, she thinks it’s mock offense. It could be genuine offense. “How dare you think I would miss that scene.”

 

She laughs and turns up the volume.

 

While the girls on the screen converse, Maddy chews on her bottom lip and tries to think of when she can sneak in boxing workouts and when to challenge Henry to a spar. He’ll laugh and try and take it easy on her at first, but she needs to work up to his level first. And damn him, she will. That workout alone was enough to decide to get back at him.

 

Henry’s phone rings.

 

She sits up straighter and pauses the movie. When Henry’s phone rings, it’s one of two things: the police station or his mother. He always declines his mother, but he always accepts the station. She waits until she gets a read on the situation, but the kitchen is silent, so she pushes the blanket off her body, stands up, and wanders into the kitchen.

 

Henry sets two sodas on the counter and switches his phone to the other ear. “Hold up, Brett, what’s going on? Why does Herb need the paperwork?”

 

Maddy smirks and leans against the door frame.  _ Maybe… _

 

Henry pulls out a chair from the kitchen table and sits down heavily. “That doesn’t make sense. I filled it out. And besides, it’s my day off, and he didn’t make me do it before I clocked out last night.” He glances up and smiles quickly at Maddy. “No, Brett, just…okay, what’s the situation?”

 

Maddy steps into the kitchen and creeps over to Henry. He lifts his left hand from the table so she can climb onto his lap.

 

Henry looks extremely attractive when wearing his grey academy sweatpants and glasses. She doesn’t know what it is about the glasses. He looks great either way.

 

Instead of merely sitting on Henry’s lap, she straddles him. His eyebrows shoot up, disappearing into the creases of his forehead, and he gulps. “Um, Br-Brett, can you– can you repeat that please?” He clears his throat, his left hand hovering over her back, not entirely sure of where to put it.

 

She places both hands on his shoulders and presses feather light kisses to his jaw. His eyes flutter closed, and he tries to turn into her touch, but Maddy grips his chin firmly in her left hand and keeps his face right where it is. Her lips just barely brush over his skin, and he jerks against her hand.

 

“Uh, Brett, you know, the part that you said about thirty seconds ago. That’s the part I need you to repeat.” Henry licks his lips and opens his eyes, blinking a few times.

 

He has blond eyelashes. The light in the kitchen just barely shows them, but they look golden, made of thread. Or maybe that’s just as a result of the glare from his glasses. Either way, she notices, and she starts kissing the skin underneath his jaw, a bit more pressing than the feather light kisses from before.

 

His eyelids flutter closed again, and he presses his left hand to the small of her back. “Um, I– I think the main perp was…” he whimpers when Maddy sucks on the pulse point, slowly trailing her fingers down his chest. His body shifts underneath her, attempting to get a better angle. She runs her tongue over the pulse point and kisses her way down his neck. She can’t decide if she wants to kiss the hollow of his throat or give him a hickey where his neck meets his collarbone first.

 

Henry clears his throat. “Uh, the main perp was Daniel Ba–”

 

Maddy nips at the skin on his neck, though not nearly hard enough to leave a mark. She continues to leave small bites the rest of the way down his neck before she presses a kiss to the hollow at the bottom of his throat.

 

“Bacleben.” He furrows his brow. “Wait. That’s not a name. His first name was–” he breathes out shakily when Maddy’s hands slip under his shirt. Her hands are freezing against his skin, and she carefully traces the outline of his abs. “– was Daniel, but um, his last– damn, that feels good.”

 

She smirks against his skin and bites the spot where his neck meets his collarbone. Henry moans slightly, but the moan becomes louder when she begins to suck. She gently scratches her fingernails against his stomach.

 

_ And to think it’s not even the fun part yet, _ she thinks to herself. She pulls away from him, shakes the hair away from her face, and blows cool air onto the hickey.

 

Henry whimpers again. “Last name was Baxter. Yes, it sounds like a dog name, but it  _ can _ be a last name, Brett. Look,” he moves his left hand away from Maddy’s back and scratches his eyebrow, “what else do you need?”

 

_ Hang up that damn phone, I want to kiss your mouth. _ She tugs the collar of his shirt down a little bit and presses tiny, chaste kisses to the skin otherwise hidden. Henry squirms underneath her.

 

“Okay, I know for sure he had five different partners. I don’t remember their– their–”

 

Maddy rocks her hips against his just as she drags her tongue all the way up to the skin behind his ear.

 

“Fuck, Mad,” he murmurs. He looks up at her, his eyes clear and desperate. “Do that again, sweetheart.”

 

She raises her eyebrows and leans forward, her hair falling to frame her face. “What?” she asks, kissing the corner of his mouth.  _ “This?” _ She accentuates her question by rocking her hips against him for the second time. His eyes flutter closed, and a shaky breath blows past his lips onto her neck. She drags her tongue up to his earlobe again. “Or that?”

 

He turns his face and presses a kiss to her neck. “Baby, I want you to do both.”

 

_ Holy fuck, is he talking dirty to me? _ Maddy licks her lips. “Both?” she murmurs, letting her hands travel further up Henry’s torso. Fuck, his pecs feel nice. “Both as in the same time or…”

 

He nods quickly. “Same time, sweetheart. At the same time.”

 

She smirks and rocks against his hips again. “You still are on the phone.”

 

Henry has a moment of clarity and blinks rapidly. “Brett, the case file is in my desk. Bottom left drawer, first file under B. Good luck.” He abruptly ends the call, tosses his phone onto the table, and cups her face in his right hand, pulling her lips to his.

 

His tongue teases open her mouth, and it’s her turn to moan. Her hands slide the rest of the way down his torso, and she melts into his body, brushing her tongue against his.

 

When he pulls away from her, she whimpers, but he brushes her hair away from her neck and bites at the same spot she bit him: mirroring hickeys. She cups the back of his head with her left hand and rocks her hips against his again. Already, she tilts her head to give him a better angle.

 

And then this motherfucker fucking  _ growls. _

 

Not only does he growl while biting her neck, he pulls her closer, desperately trying to close the distance between them. She gasps and bites her bottom lip, tangling her hand in his hair.

 

He leaves the hickey on its own and kisses his way back up her neck. She tugs on his hair, pulling his head so that she can look at him, through the desperation in her eyes. “Kiss me,” she demands, breathes, and he gets the message. His lips find hers again, and though it starts desperately, though his hands are roaming up and down her sides, always stopping before they reach her chest, he slows it down, letting the kiss linger.

 

Maddy finally pulls away from him, resting her forehead against his. “I, uh,” she pants, licking her lips, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

 

He nods, his eyes still closed, and he gently brushes her hair away from her face. “I know,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. He kisses her once more, softly, tenderly, similar to the way snow falls in Cincinnati. “I just…never knew if you wanted it.”

 

She smiles softly and searches for his hand. Squeezing it once, she nods, her own eyelids fluttering closed. “I wanted it, Henry. I definitely wanted it. I was flirting with you for a while.”

 

He laughs softly. “Mad, I’m dense as fuck when it comes to flirting. If you want to date me, you have  _ got _ to make it explicitly clear.” He cups her cheek and searches her eyes. “But actually, it was more because…because you’re so amazing and I thought there was no way on God’s green Earth that you would choose me when you could have anyone else.”

 

She turns her face into his hand and kisses his palm. “I don’t want anyone else, Henry, I want you.”

 

Henry purses his lips and nods slowly. “So, uh…would you be opposed to no longer having not-dates and instead having date-dates?”

 

She laughs and kisses him one last time. “I would love that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like it, love it, hate it? Leave a comment below or go to my tumblr, @ my-glasses-are-dirty, and tell me what you think!


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